How long have I been here? I don't remember. I don't remember anything, not even the faces of my family, their features fading from memory. I do, however, remember the wounds he imprinted into my skin. The constant stinging wouldn't let me forget. Shivering from the memory of the cruel beating, I burrow deeper into the darkness of his basement. The chains around my feet keep me planted in a place where he can reach me. Suddenly, the silence is broken by his voice. The voice that brought fear and...hope. My hands reach out to him, wanting nothing more than to hold unto him, but at the same time, my feet want to race to the safety of the outside world. At the sight of his face, my hands shot back to my sides, but he catches them, pressing them against his face. "Have you been a good girl?" he whispers. I say nothing, my body both fearing and savoring his touch. His eyes spark with irritation at my silence and that gentle touch has turned into violent strength I know all too well. "Have you been a good girl?" he repeats, this time his voice turning into a roar. I quickly nod, too scared to say anything else. Then, satisfied with the answer, he becomes loving again.

"Good," he purrs. The buzzing of his phone takes his attention away from me and I take the moment to crawl as far away as the chains will let me. With an angry sigh, he gets to his feet. He looks down at me, smiling. I feel a shiver coarse through my body. I love it when he smiled like that. I adored it when he touched me gently, like a fragile doll instead of a punching bag. "I have to go, sweetheart. Be good," he say, caressing my face one last time. Panic replaces the warm feeling I had just a moment ago. I grab unto his hand, holding it desperately.

"Wait, don't go! Stay with me!" I beg. I don't even understand my own actions. Why did I want him to stay? He locked me away in this cold prison. I can tell I've annoyed him because he wrenches his hand away from my grasp.

"Be quiet!" he growls, his anger growing.

"Please, don't leave me alone again!" I plead.

"I. Said. Shut. Up," he yells, the back of his hand meeting my face. I drop to the ground, my cheek burning. Grumbling, he walks away, plunging me once again into darkness. I feel a tear escape my eye and then another one, until I'm sobbing.

"Why...do I still love you?"

He is my worst nightmare and my sweetest dream. He is the thing I hate the most, but I hate the thought of leaving him. He is my savior and my destruction.